Story 1: The Riddle of the Little Hangleton Murders
by Wodan83
Summary: Tom Riddle enters the Hanged Man to inform about a famous wizarding family. What he discovers however, drives him to murder.


**Story1 **

**The Riddle of the Little Hangleton murders**

**Chapter 1: The boy in the bar.**

It was warm at August the twenty fourth in 1943, many people did not linger outside much for the sun was scorching and the fear of Nazi German airplanes added to the heat. People quickened their pace these days when they had to go outside. A friendly talk about the weather was a thing of the past. The local pub "The Hanged Man" which used to be a cheery gathering place for the town's folk was now barred up and visited only by gossiping people.

At the very edge of the town on a hill that overlooked the city was a large mansion that sat upon a wide expand of a velvety green lawns. The Mansion was owned by the wealthy Riddle family. The people were not fond of them, as it was a known fact to most that the Riddle family in all their wealth and bless full belongings never lifted a finger to help fighting the poverty of Little Hangleton. There were no Nazi Swastika's to be seen of course but Mary Riddle was known to propagate the racial hate mongering of Hitler to all who would listen, or even to those who would not.

"Those foul Nazi's, when are they going to help rebuild the bombed parts of town?" Was all that Agatha the barmaid said when the family was discussed by the town's folk. But even with the majority of the pub supporting her in her statement, nobody knew what to do with it. The Riddle family had bought themselves into every shop, business and even the police were suspected to take bribes from them. Their power was too great to just, pick up the old fashion torch and pitch-fork to drive them away. The fact was just that nobody seemed to like them. But like a weed in your garden, you wouldn't get rid of them unless you would take drastic measures.

The day of the twenty-fourth had started with the usual routines of the village. People would go to the shops with their food-stamps to collect their food, the towns-guards would change shifts and the postman would go to "The Hanged Man" to sort his letters and bills, ever since the post office was bombed. All went as smoothly as it always did even in these dire times. There was just one, almost unnoticeable change in the daily routines. A small thing really, in these times it wouldn't even been noticed. The strange young man that walked into the pub made the regulars grow real quiet in a few seconds. As the dark haired youngster looked around until he was greeted by a busy Agatha who was carrying a large platter of drinks. "G'day to ya lad, what brings you to Little Hangover?" she said smiling as she passed around some coffee and water to her guests." The dark haired boy smiled at her with a handsome face. "Hi my name is Tom. I'm looking for a family that should live around here. I was wondering if you could help me." Agatha looked at him curiously and gasped a little. "Did you say your name was Tom?" She asked with a bit of excitement. "Yes I did, why?" Tom replied suspiciously. "No reason, just to be sure I heard right." She gave him a wink and took a glass to wash. "So who is it you're looking for?" she poured in some beer and gave it to a drunk sitting at the bar. "The Gaunt family would be living in this town. Do you know them by any chance?" Tom sounded a little posh but very friendly and even a little smarmy according to Agatha.

"Know them? Of course I know them honey, for they are the talk of the town." Agatha gave tom a wink and started to wash some glasses. Tom took a seat at the bar and ordered tea. Agatha gave him an old fashion strong tasting tea with a dry biscuit. "So why is it that they are the talk of the town?" Tom asked the bar maiden who somehow could not stop smiling at the gentle youngster before her. She shrugged and looked over his shoulder outside the window. "They are just strange and they do weird things, things that get them in the funny papers." Tom laughed and drank his tea. "Weird things like what, if you don't mind telling?" but it was exactly that question that triggered Agatha's love for gossiping. "Oh I don't mind at all sweetheart. Well first of there is the father a complete mental case. He tried to sell his daughter when she was younger, the Mother died of smallpox but not before running into the streets in her birthday suit. Then there was the brother, he disappeared but we think he is back now. He liked playing with knifes even as a young boy. And then the little shack they live in, far too small and filthy. And imagine this, as a decoration they nailed a large snake onto their door." Tom listened silently and for a while longer on how the family misbehaved to the other villagers. They had also showed their support to Hitler in a way. "Well of course they weren't wearing any swastikas or anything, that would get them arrested. They did however wear a weird triangular sign, with a circle and an capital I in the middle I think." She told tom almost without breathing.

"Grindelwald..." Tom whispered to himself. Agatha looked up quizzically. "Come again, what did you mumble sweetheart?" She asked friendly as she cleaned the bar with a dirty rag. "Never mind madam, could you tell me where the Gaunts live please?" Agatha slapped the drying cloth over her shoulder and took out a map from under the bar. It showed the layout of the town, as she pointed at the center of it. "This is the church across the street." Agatha said pointing outside at the large building across the street. Go left outside and you will be walking this road right here, and if you cross the bridge you will come up to the large mansion at your left, look for the first dirt road at your right and take it. Then about two minutes there is a large cluster of bushes at your right again. There is an old and small hovel in which they live." Suddenly Tom's face turned into an ice cold grimace that did not make him any more handsome, more the opposite, it made him look scary. Agatha asked him if he was alright as she put away the map again and took the coins Tom offered her. She felt a bit intimidated as the bar had emptied over the last few minutes. "Are you alright doll?" she asked carefully but Tom's face had turned back to normal and he smiled at her again. "Thank you for the information madam, you helped me more then you realize." He said softly as he drew a wand out of his pocket. "What do you have there in your hand Tom?" she asked with fear in her voice. "Obliviate!" Tom whispered as a blue glowing line started to form between him and Agatha. As she looked confused around her in her bar Agatha wondered where the twenty pound note came from. Never would she know she had met Tom Marvolo Riddle, never would she remember that it was she who had told him where to find his mother's family.

**Chapter 2: Disillusion**

The moon had driven away the sun and all was dark on the dirt road where Tom Riddle was looking at a small worn down hovel. "The years have not been good for the descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin." Tom hissed in anger to himself. He realized that Nott had not lied to him, the Gaunt-family was a poor family led by a lunatic father who had spend all the money they had on riches he could not pay for. Tom made mental note to thank Nott for his honesty, and tell him not to bring it as blunt as he did so he would not get crusciated as he was.

Tom walked up to the door and listened closely. Inside he heard a loud snoring and he assumed one of the two men was sleeping drunken in his chair. Tom held the old lantern he had found at the side of the house up and pointed his wand at it. "Incendio" he whispered and a small flame erupted inside illuminating the surroundings. He gave a rapid knock on the door and pushed the door open which gave an old fashion creaking sound. Tom looked around and saw a movement at the fireplace. From the old moldy chair rose a monkey shaped man who was broad in the shoulders and had greasy black hair. His mismatched eyes looked into Tom's and recognition dawned on the man.

"YOU! He bellowed. "YOU!" Before Tom knew what was going on, the man came hurtling at him, both knife and wand held aloft. The only thing Tom could think of was drawing his wand and curse him. But he thought better of it, using his wand would definitely draw the attention of the Ministry of Magic to him. Without being sure Tom used the gift of his ancestor, hoping it was a gift that ran in their blood. "Stop." He said in the snake language that only Slytherin and his kin understood. The drunken man skidded into the table making a few pots fall to the floor. Apparently the man had never learned to take care of himself as the smell of mold and rotten food rose from the floor. The man locked eyes with Tom and after a long silence the snake language was answered by this fool. "You speak it?" He asked nervously.

"Yes I speak it!" Tom said the disappointment that he felt heavy in his voice. He took a few steps inside and the door closed with a swing as Tom waved a few fingers. "Where is Marvolo?" he asked with as much demand in his voice he could muster. This foul drunken waste of life would better answer him quickly as he felt the hatred and anger rise up in him. "Dead" Said the man in a matter of fact tone. "Died years ago, didn't he?" The stupidity of this man sounded in his voice as it did in the attack he almost gave Tom. Frowning in annoyance Tom had to struggle to keep his patience before he continued his interrogation. "Who are you then?" Tom asked trying to stall time; he had not anticipated Marvolo to be dead. "I'm Morfin ain't I?" Tom wondered if this man needed every statement confirmed. "Marvolo's son?" He asked the dirt covered man. "Course I am then!" Tom started to hate Morfin, he was dirty dumb and not worth being called a wizard. Let alone being called the heir of Slytherin. Morfin pushed his dirty hair out of his face and Tom saw the black ring Morfin wore on his right hand. In the light of the fireplace Tom recognized the Peverell family coat of arms. The familiar feeling of longing shot trough Tom as he always had felt when he saw something he believed to be his.

"I thought you was that Muggle," Morfin whispered more to himself then to Tom. The very idea of him being a Muggle enraged Tom. But it had to mean something for Morfin would not say that just for fun. "What Muggle?" he asked trying to hone his fury. Morfin got a face that was showing the disgust that he apparently fell. "That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way!" He spat on the floor right in front of Tom's feet and wiped his mouth, his anger boiling to the surface. "You look right like him. Riddle! But he's now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think of it!"

Tom's anger rose and he felt like he was to discover something so disgusting he could barely take it. But he had to know, just a little longer before he could dispose of this filth, but first he had to know. How was it that this despicable filth knew his last name?

"He came back see." Morfin suddenly said waking Tom out of his thoughts. "Riddle came back?" It seemed prudent to Tom that he kept talking to Morfin on his weak minded level. "Ar, he left her and serves her right, marrying filth!" He spat on the floor again to emphasize his feeling about the topic. "Robbed us mind before she ran off she did. Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?"

Tom felt a surge of excitement in his body. There was a locket? There was prove that Slytherin had existed? If he could find this locket, he could take possession of it and make his claim to his legacy to be a reality. He felt the familiar feeling of calculated murder rising in him again. It gave him a purpose, the taboo that others talked about was just an excuse not to do what had to be done.

"Dishonored us, she did. That little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking about all that?" Morfin's rage started to build against Tom again. Hobbling from liquor Morfin walked over to Tom raising his knife and wand again. "It's over innit, it's over!" and with those last words he stood still suddenly and crashed to the floor. Tom knelt down besides his uncle and thought him to be dead. But as he was about to stand up again a loud and deep snore told him otherwise. "Weak minded primate! Disgusting worm! How dare you smearing the name of Slytherin through the mud like this?" His rage finally broke as he stood up and paced around the hovel. Everything in here was a curse, a smudge on the name Slytherin. He was disappointed to see what had become of one of the greatest wizards of all time. These brainless monkey´s had ruined everything he had hoped to find. He had been so excited to find out his royal descent, and now? Now he had to find out, not only was his grandfather and uncle a bunch of weak minded apes. He had also been an accident between a filthy Muggle and a blood traitor. Lights exploded in front his eyes and Tom took out his wand and pointed it at his uncle. "This is not even murder," Tom whispered in a hiss. "This is purification!" He raised his wand to make the spell he used once before on a toad of one of his classmates. "Avada Kedav…" Before he could finish his curse however, Tom had a brilliant idea. He soon would have a better target, and a scapegoat to take the blame. He pocketed his own wand and bend down to pick up his uncles wand. "How useful you are for me, uncle. Finally, you shall be of service to Lord Voldemort." And with that he walked out of the hovel, armed with his uncle's wand and in possession of his uncle's ring. His mind was set on the big house over the road.

**Chapter 3. Riddles in the dark. **

The clock struck twelve in the large common room that was lit by a few candles. Thomas Riddle looked up from his book and cleared his throat to get the attention of his family. "The hour is twelve dear family, time for bed." Thomas' deep voice rumbled through the empty room. In the corner of the couch his son Tom looked up from his book with his gaunt white face. "Yes let's retire, I grow weary of this book, it has no…" "Who asked you anything boy?" Thomas interjected him with a harsh voice. Ever since Tom had his affair with the Gaunt girl, he had fallen out of grace with his father even though it had been more then sixteen years ago. Thomas had clearly told him that the scandal would have destroyed the family, had he dared to bring that wretched bitch with him. Tom ducked back behind his book again and opened it at a random page as his father and mother stood up to leave the room. Suddenly there was a small creaking sound, like someone stood on a loose floorboard. "Who are you?" Thomas asked in a demanding tone. Tom looked up and saw, to his horror, a reflection of his own younger version standing in the middle of the room.

The boy who stood in the middle of the room wore a long black coat with underneath a school's uniform with a strange looking emblem on it. The black hair and dark eyes resembled Tom's and even the funny snub nose Tom had inherited from his mother was on the boy's face. But the arrogant look that his father had was even friendly compared to the enraged arrogance that this boy was showing.

"Please do remain seated old man, I invite you all to remain seated." The well spoken young man held up his hands and gestured them to stay calm. However Tom had the feeling that they were in a terrible danger. "Who are you boy?" Thomas Riddle asked sternly, appalled by the boy's insolence. "And what are you doing in my house?" The near growl Thomas released in his voice sounded animalistic and was meant to show this little brat what he was about to face. "How dare you breaking into the Riddle mansion!" Thomas Riddle voice became more and more quiet as the boy just stood there smiling at the elderly man. Thomas took a good look at the boy and then at his own son. Understanding dawned on his face as he pointed his finger at his son. "Tom this boy looks like you!" his voice cracked and he knew the scandal had finally reached his house. He could not shoot this kid. He could not just show him the door as he did with the poor or charity beggars.

These weak old Muggles were talking about him like he was one of them. This was entertaining but they started to become insulting. "Tom tell me this please, did you make the Gaunt girl pregnant?" Thomas asked his son, anger building inside him. Voldemort gave a little chuckle and slowly moved to the chair opposite his grandparents. "I will take my seat as if you had invited me shall I?" He said not waiting for an answer to sit in the chair. He took out his uncle's wand and rolled it between his fingers. "So tell me father, were you ever going to visit me? Have you ever tried to find me at all?" He asked Tom without looking at him or giving any form of acknowledgement that any of them were there. "Who are you boy?" Thomas asked the young man in the chair in front of the fireplace.

"My name you old mud-veined Muggle, is Lord Voldemort." Thomas let out a short barking laugh and stepped up to his son. "Come on Tom man up and take responsibility for this little bastard of yours! Throw him out of my house before I strangle, this little Lord… what did you say, Voldethingy?" The hate Voldemort felt for the ignorance of this man was apparently showing on his face for Thomas stepped back in fear. "Your eyes, what is wrong with your eyes?" He asked trying to shield his wife with his arm.

"Voldemort try to pronounce it, you bag of old potatoes." Voldemort said calmly. Thomas frowned and at his grandson and huffed indignantly. "You know you can't just call yourself a Lord don't you little man?" He said as if he wanted to teach the boys a lesson in manners. Voldemort pointed his wand at Thomas and started to write in green shining letters in the air. "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT" it said spelled out in the middle of the air. All three Riddles let out screams in shock as Thomas sat back down in his chair. "What in the devil's name are you?" the old man asked the young man in the chair opposite him. Voldemort just grinned and shook with his wand through the air. "Not what you old fool, who is more the question you should be asking." Voldemort said annoyed by the question. The letters started to float around in the air and were rearranging into new words. Tom looked up and together with his father and mother got big eyes as they read what was written. "TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE" was flaring in their eyes and as the effect had reached its purpose, the letters changed back to "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT".

"Enough!" Thomas yelled at Voldemort as he stood up again and straightened his jacket. "I will not be bullied out of my own house. Why are you here, what do you want?" His voice sounded impatient and he looked at his son again. "Tom, get up do something about this." He demanded his son to take action but the latter only held his hands in front of his eyes and seemed to be scared witless. "Weak! As always you disappoint me son!" Thomas bellowed. Voldemort nodded agreeing with his grandfather in appreciation. "Indeed father. You should stand up to your son and tell him what he does wrong." He said coldly, his voice full of hate and he felt the curse building up in him that he wanted to try for so long now. "Do you know what he did wrong to begin with old man?" He addressed Thomas directly for he felt that this would hurt his father even more.

"He ran away with that slut of a mother of yours." Thomas yelled enraged. "No." The voice had a high frightening pitch and Voldemort stood up his wand raised again. But this time it was not Thomas or Tom he was aiming at. The silent woman who had been sitting in her chair ever since Voldemort had walked into the room, let out a little yelp as Voldemort pointed his wand at her. "Thomas?" She started feebly as she clutched the chair's armrests. "Thomas what is he doing?" Her fear was a delight for Voldemort to behold. Finally one of these feeble minded slugs was beginning to understand. Thomas looked at his wife and then at Voldemort. "Leave her alone you little monster, spawn of Lucifer!" He yelled as he took a step forward, but Voldemort was not backing down. "The first thing he did wrong grandpa, was abandoning my mother. Now let's just see what it feels like, to lose your mom shall we Tom?" Voldemort looked passed Thomas into his father's eyes. Tom shook his head pleading with Voldemort. But Voldemort just smiled even broader and turned at his grandmother. "Avada Kedavra!" the high pitch voice echoed through the room in a delightful tone. Mary Riddle, who had not said one word to Voldemort, fell back into her chair. Her eyes were looking up to the ceiling, terror in her face.

"Mary?" Thomas walked quickly to his wife and shook her gently by her shoulders. "Mary what is wrong?" At this question Voldemort started to laugh. "What is wrong? My good man she is very much dead as you can see." He said taunting his grandfather about his wife's murder. "How do you like that Father? Does it hurt you to see your mother go like that?" Voldemort felt the power inside him growing immensely, he enjoyed the fear he saw in the two men's eyes. He had them were he wanted them, at his mercy. "

Come on father dear; let's explore more of our feelings together." Voldemort sat down in the chair at the fireplace again and looked at Thomas who started to cry uncontrollably loud. He called for his wife's name and was praying out loud for her soul. Voldemort could not stand the sound of crying people. He hated it about the little ones at the orphanage, and he despised it about grown men who were supposed to be strong and tough.

"Can you guess what the second thing is that your son has done wrong, old man?" Voldemort asked in a soft almost whispering voice as Thomas slowly stood up and turned himself around. "Do you think I want to know why you just killed my wife?" Thomas said in a hoarse voice that was dripping with pain and hate. "Do you really think I am interested in what you have to say?" Thomas started to walk over to a large cabinet which Voldemort suspected held his weapon. "You definitely should gramps, seeing that you should know why you are about to die. Coloportus, let's leave the gun where it is shall we, Thomas?" Thomas pulled at the cabinet's door without result, for with a plopping sound the door had been magically sealed.

"The second thing your son has done is leaving me fatherless. I had hoped with all my heart that you would be the wizard dad." Voldemort turned his attention to his father again and his voice sounded more and more cold and hateful. "It turned out it was my mother that was the magical one who created me. But then, she died a shameful act for someone truly magical." Voldemort pointed his wand at his father. "I heard from the hag running the orphanage that my mother died when she delivered me. Dying is something a Muggle does." Without warning Voldemort pointed his wand at the old man who tried to sneak closer to his grandson. "Go sit in your chair again old fool, Lord Voldemort cannot be killed by a weak slug like you." Thomas who had tried to capture the sixteen year old boy gave a sigh and walked back to his chair and took his seat.

"Where was I, ah yes mortality. From all the stories that were told to us at the orphanage I always got the impression that the wizards were immortal. Imagine my disappointment when I found out that we were not. But I have been investigating the possibilities to become immortal and it is possible." Voldemort seemed to be talking more to his own self as Thomas was distraught and crying about his wife and Tom, was in utter shock about the situation. "But the important part is that no one knows how you do it. That is why I fashioned myself a new name. In the future, people will only know Voldemort and not Tom Riddle. It is a name even I want to forget, for it reminds me the filth that you put into my veins father." Suddenly Thomas stood up and pulled his jacket straight. "Riddle, is a respectable and honorable name that is known throughout the land as a rich and powerful name young man!" Voldemort laughed humorless and even forced. "Powerful, respectable and honorable you say? Don't make me laugh you filthy Muggle. In my world you are worth as much as the maggots that will be consuming your wife in a few days." At this new insult Thomas's proud face turned into a sad grimace as he sat down again.

"Now then, where was I?" Voldemort stood up and started to pace the room. "Oh yes, I wanted to let you on to my secret." He whispered softly as he tried to warmth his cold hands on the open fire. The Muggles that cowered on their chairs had abandoned all hope, he could feel this and he enjoyed it too. It gave a satisfying form of complete power to see these half-men crawling for him. "It is quite possible to be immortal father, and your son is going to prove it. Are you not proud?" Voldemort turned around, the flash of red now clearly visible in his eyes. "Are you not in awe that your son will be the most powerful man in existence? All it really takes is a lot of you dying." Voldemort let out a hissing laugh as his voice pitched high again at the last maniacal words. "How dare you?" Thomas broken and sobbing voice suddenly rose from behind his long curling hair. "What is that?" Voldemort hissed in anger for the interruption. "How dare you, toying with us like this? Do you think we would be proud of you in any way after what you did? I rather shoot you between your eyes…" "Avada Kedavra!" The sudden outburst of Voldemort's anger had cost the old man his life. The body of Thomas Riddle slumped back into his chair not moving anymore. He gazed at the forever after, right in the reapers grin.

"No! Please no, what have you done?" Tom riddle rose up and ran over to his parents. "Is this entire family as weak minded as you father?" Voldemort asked in a demeaning voice. "What have I done? Isn't that obvious Tom? I made you an orphan, like me." The last line came out in a hateful chuckle as this evil teen seemed to enjoy this moment.

Voldemort seemed to slither around his father Tom and pointed his wand at him, lowered it and raised it again. It seemed like he did not know what to do, now that he had his toy he wanted for so long. "This is your own fault father, do realize that please." Voldemort sneered at his father who was trembling with fear. Distraught by his loss he fell to the floor and started to beg for his life. "Please son, please! Bring them back, please I beg of you." Tears rolled down his cheeks and his nose became wet as he snorted softly. "You disgust me father, I had hoped for a little dignity from you but all I can expect is a sniveling worm I can see that now." Tom nodded softly looking into the eyes of his son were he could see pure hate and pleasure in the torment he gave his father. "Sit down on the couch again." Voldemort's voice sounded demanding and without any emotion. Clearly his father was nothing more than filth to him.

"Rejoice father, for you will serve as my second Horcrux. My mother's death made sure I came to be, your death will make sure I will stay alive." Voldemort suddenly whispered. Tom looked up and tilted his head to one side in confusion. "What is a Horcrux son?" Voldemort however pointed his want and with a third "Avada Kedavra!" Tom Riddle slammed back death into the couch. Voldemort bend forward to face his father up close and smiled at the horror struck face. "I am not your son, Tom. I am far more important and precious than that. I am Lord Voldemort."

Voldemort pointed his wand at the cabinet and unlocked it, walked out of the room and out of the house, forever leaving behind the shameful stain on his name. The sickness had been eradicated and if he played it right nobody would ever find out what had happened, for this he would have to pay a visit to his uncle one last time. He would have to keep up the rare name of Riddle for a little while longer. To those who, he knew, would follow his leadership the name Tom Riddle would be death and only Voldemort would exist. The Wizarding World would know him as their savior.

"Lord Voldemort, the executioner." Tom whispered to himself as he licked his lips. "Lord Voldemort, the purifier." He closed the door behind him and into the warm summer night. This was the beginning, he knew, of his conquest to become the world's Magical leader.


End file.
